But Not The Man
by Kresnik
Summary: A ghostly black ship is killing men along the Atlantic coast, but is it a ghost? Or something else?
1. Chapter 1

"Mack!"

Katie ran down the jetty as the young man threw the painter to his father to secure. As she called his name he looked up and treated her to one of those dazzling smiles that made her knees go weak. He bounded on to the jetty and caught her in his arms.

"Miss me?" He asked, knowing perfectly well she did.

Just so there was no doubt, Katie kissed him, and showed him exactly how much she'd hated the two weeks he'd been away.

"Mack." They both turned as his father called him back, they may have been trawling for a fortnight, but the work wasn't over.

"What's that?" Mack suddenly asked, looking passed his Dad.

The sky went dark, the flag that adorned 'The Mistress' snapped in a sudden wind, and coming into port glided a black ship.

"That's impossible," the father said. "Its coming in against the wind."

Katie shrank in to Mack's side, trying to find comfort in his strong frame. But Mack's blood ran cold, and he shook.

There was no relief in the blackness, the ship, it's sails, it's flags. Lightning shot the three masted ship into sharp relief.

'Where's the crew?" Katie asked quietly. Neither man answered her.

Behind them, more dock workers gathered, staring at the spectacle.

The cloud that fought itself around the masts moved away from the ship, passing over Katie, heading inland.

She heard a breath, a sigh, a whisper.

Back beyond the docks, in the town proper, the screaming began.

oooooooooooooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooo

"Hey Sam! Get over here."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he said to the girl and carried their coffees over to wall Dean was currently straddling.

"You yelled?"

"So we've got another black ship sighting, and this time ten healthy men dropped dead."

Dean turned the lap top so Sam could see it.

"Still along the Atlantic coast, this time a small place called Greenfield, North Carolina."

"They just dropped dead? Like that?"

"That's the way they tell it."

"Hell of a drive."

"Let's get moving."

ooooooooooooooOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Dean dumped his bag on the bed.

"So, the way the guy tells it, the ship was seen by half the town. It came against the wind right up to the jetty, a cloud came into the town and settled on the men, he said they screamed for five minutes before the cloud lifted and they were dead. Then the ship just left."

Sam jumped as Dean threw the second key at him. He shot him an irritated look before going back to his research.

"Well that's new. No mass deaths at any of the other towns."

"Any deaths at all?"

"I'm still checking."

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and walked over to the window. They'd struck lucky for once, they were in a hotel off-season and their room over looked the coast. Off to the right the little town of Greenfield huddled in the drizzle, still in shock after the tragedy that had only struck four days before. The press and the scientists were all ensconced in town, giving the brothers an easy legend to tell when ever they needed. A few fishing boats sat miserably in the harbour, a trawler was just making it's way in, while another was already unloading.

Forest pressed in on either side of the town, and the hotel looked out over a few stunted trees before the land dropped away into the Atlantic ocean.

"Great view."

"I guess," Sam answered, preoccupied.

"Come on Sam. You don't like the beach?"

Sam shook his head. "I just don't see what's so special. It's where the sea meets the land. So what?"

"So what?" Dean asked. "Dude - bikinis, short shorts..."

"I might have guessed." Sam laughed, not so much out of humour than the sheer predictability of his brother. "Here we go. In each of the other towns there was one unexplained death. Each time it was a man, all between 45 and 55."

Finally Dean sat down.

"So what ever this thing is, it's escalating?"

Sam tore his eyes away from the screen.

"From one to ten, I'd call that an escalation. And the sightings are getting closer together, the first few were only seen over a year or so, the last was only three weeks."

"So what's doing it? A ghost ship?"

"That's the problem, this area is called the graveyard of ships, but for all that there aren't really many stories. They've got 'The Carroll A. Deering' which is a Marie Celeste-type case, but no real ghost ships. Unless you count the ship of Captain Don Sandovate."

"That's just a ragged ship with the souls of pirates crying out for water," Dean dismissed. "There's always 'The Flying Dutchman', people are supposed to die after seeing that."

"It doesn't matter, ghost ships are specific to the sea, they don't come in to land and kill people."

"Hey, may be this is like 'The Fog'."

"Until Stephen King is proved to be an investigative reporter I think we can forget about that."

"Well may be we shouldn't, if that's all we've got."

Sam put the lap top aside, frustrated.

"May be we're going about this wrong. Maybe this isn't a ghost ship at all, may be it's something else."

"Yeah, and may be it's something new," Dean answered. "But if we don't figure it out more people are going to die."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam huddled deeper into his coat. The weather was miserable, it couldn't even be bothered to rain properly. Dean seemed totally oblivious to it, more than that, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Okay college boy, you take the hospital, find out exactly what these people died of. I'll take the witnesses."

"Okay. Dean?"

"What?"

"Just remember these people are in shock, go easy on them."

Dean looked insulted. "Hey, I think I know what I'm doing. I've been at this a while."

"Yeah, what ever." He had an image in his head of Dean being chased by angry townsfolk with flaming torches and laughed out loud. "Later."

oooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

The rain had hardened by the time Dean finally found the Diner. Its windows had misted up and as he pushed the stiff door open humid air oppressed him. He took a deep breath that seemed more water than air and looked about. He could see her behind the counter at the far end, her face pale, her mouth a straight line.

Rubbing his hair to get the worst of the rain off he decided to take his brother's advice, though he'd never admit it, and take the tactical approach. Sitting at the counter he waited for an older man, her father he guessed from what the librarian had told him, to approach.

"I'll have a coffee please." As he watched the coffee poured, he leaned forward and dropped his voice. "Is that Katie Smitham over there?"

The coffee pouring stopped.

"Why d'you want to know?" There was a protective growl in the man's voice.

"Look, I know she's been through a lot, I'm sure just about everyone's wanted to talk to her, but I'd really appreciate it if she could talk to one more person."

The coffee came out in a gush, Dean flinched as a drop scalded his hand.

"You're right, she has been through a lot, and she's talked to a lot of people too. And the last thing she needs is another idiot treating her like she's lost her mind!"

"No, no, you don't understand. I'm Nathan Shipford, I work for 'The Fortean Times', believe me the last thing I'm going to do is make fun of her. No matter what others might be telling you, mass hallucinations simply don't exist, I know she really saw what she saw."

He looked at Dean, trying to weigh him up, and Dean put on his best sincere face. Suddenly the man's eyes drifted beyond, automatically Dean turned around in time to see a woman sitting at one of the tables nod. Her eyes settled on him, clear deep blue eyes. She got up, smiled at Katie's father, and left swinging her long leather coat on in one fluid movement, and though the rain was still hammering, it seemed to make no difference to her.

"Who was that?" He asked, before he could stop himself.

"A visitor," he replied. "I'll see what Katie wants to do."

Whoever the woman was, the nod seemed to have given Dean the key. Katie was reluctant, but she agreed to sit down in a booth and tell her story one last time.

"Thanks for doing this, I know it's not easy."

Katie shrugged, and nervously pushed a stray copper curl behind her ear, her finger nails were bitten down to the quick.

"So you write about this sort of thing all the time?"

"Well, not usually anything so dramatic, but I cover a lot of odd things for the FT."

"Odd?" She laughed, a humourless laugh that seemed to be forced out of her against her will. "That's one word for it."

"Now, I 've talked to a lot of people who saw the ship from afar, but you got up real close. What was it like?"

"It was like the shadow of a boat," she told him, shivering with the memory. "Not the actual boat itself, a ship really, with three masts, the sails were billowing, but the wind was going in the wrong direction - I guess others have told you that?"

Dean nodded.

"They also mentioned that a cloud seemed to detach itself from the ship and head over the town."

"So they say. I saw the cloud move away from the ship. I don't know where it went."

"Must have been scary."

"Yes, but I can't tell you why. It was a ship, so what? We see ships all the time here. It wasn't just the way it looked, it was the way it made you feel. It felt like my breath was being squeezed out of me, like everything was squeezed out of me except fear - there wasn't room for anything else. I've never felt that frightened before."

"Did you see any one on it?"

Katie frowned. "You know, you're the first one to ask me that. No, no one was on it that I could see, but..."

"But what?" _Don't give up on me now_ - he thought.

"I thought I heard someone. A whisper. I don't know, no one else seems to have heard it."

"What did it say?"

Katie bit her lip. "The hour has come, but not the man. And it wasn't an American accent, it was more like, oh you'll think I'm crazy..."

"Believe me Katie, with all the things I've seen and heard over the years, I am not going to believe that."

Katie deliberated for a moment, then decided to tell.

"It sounds stupid, but it reminded me of Johnny Depp - in 'The Pirates of the Caribbean."

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

"Are you one of the trainees they sent me?"

Sam jumped and spun to face the balding doctor who had just poked his head through the swing doors behind him.

"Er yeah, I'm..."

"Don't care, all that matters is that I'm Doctor Cavendish, and as far as you're concerned, I'm God so get in here. This damned place was never meant to deal with this sort of thing."

And then he was gone again. Sam smiled to himself, and he didn't even have to lie - well, not much.

"Now," Dr. Cavendish continued, moving his large bulk with surprising grace around the post mortem lab. "What I _don't _need is you getting ideas above your station, you are _not_ a doctor, you're not an intern, you're just here to move what I say to move, when I say to move it. Understand?"

"Absolutely." He assured him. "So, why are you having to do this here? I would have thought..."

"Are you an idiot?" He snapped. "Until they know why ten middle aged but otherwise healthy men dropped dead around the same time half the town was suffering from a mass hallucination they're not going to let these bodies out of the quarantine zone."

"I thought the quarantine was over."

"For a gofer you talk a lot. Here put this one back into number three and get number four out."

Sam moved to the head of the trolley with the corpse, covered in its shroud, and pushed it where he was told. Luckily he wasn't unfamiliar with this kind of thing and the grumpy Dr. Cavendish didn't seem to suspect he had a ringer for an assistant.

The doctor barely waited for Sam to put the new corpse into position before pulling the covering off. Sam gasped.

"Yeah, not exactly a pretty sight, is it?" He grudgingly admitted.

"They're all like that?" He asked. "Why? I thought they just dropped dead."

"That's what the media have been told - we can hardly tell them that the men died of fright."

Sam looked again at the corpse, his face stuck in a dreadful grimace, a silent scream as if somewhere his soul was still screaming in horror.


	3. Chapter 3

"Is there a good reason why we had to meet here and not somewhere warm?"

Dean handed Sam a coffee, Sam took the cup and cradled it in his cold hands.

"This is where it happened," Dean told him, using his own cup to point to the jetty. "What did you find out?"

Sam shook his head, the memory of the dead man still hadn't left him.

"They died of fright."

"Of what?"

"Of fright, Dean. You should have seen him, his face was still fixed into a scream."

"Gruesome."

"They're still looking for a scientific reason."

Dean laughed. "Good luck to them."

"Yeah, but we're not much better off. There's not that much out there, we still don't know if we're dealing with a ghost ship or something else, and none of the pieces seem to fit. "

"Well, I have one more piece of the jigsaw, one girl heard a voice – 'The hour has come but not the man'."

Sam shrugged. "Well, it's one more thing I can search for, but I tell you, I have no idea what we're dealing with."

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted out into the mist.

"Well, for now we'll just have act as if it's a ghost ship, you..."

"It's not a ghost ship."

Both men spun round to find the new speaker. The woman Dean had seen leave the diner sat on the sea wall above them. Her black hair floated about her face as if she was floating in water, not sitting on a stone wall in winter with her leather coat wrapped around her against the chill, she wore jeans and DMs and dangled her legs almost like a child on a swing. Most importantly...

"You weren't there a second ago," Dean told her.

"Yes I was, I've been here longer than you. I just didn't want to be seen." She answered, her voice was deep and English, with a touch of something rustic.

"You're a witch." Sam said.

She looked uncomfortable with the term.

"My family never strayed from the old ways," she replied.

"An hereditary witch," Sam answered.

She sighed. "If you must." She slipped off the wall in one fluid motion to stand by the brothers. "I'm Evie."

Dean took her offered hand, and flashed her the smiled he reserved for all attractive women.

"Dean," he turned slightly, ready to introduce his brother, but her eyes widened.

"You're never Sam?" She asked the younger man, frowning, he nodded. "Good Lord! You're John Winchester's boys!"

"You know Dad?" Dean asked.

"Well, 'know' is rather an ambitious word when it comes to your father," she told him. "I met him down the Keys a couple of months ago, was he ever full of it for you two."

"He was?" Dean liked Evie more each minute.

"What was he doing there?" Sam asked.

Instantly Evie frowned. Her blue eyes seemed to change hue. "Why? Don't you know?"

"We haven't seen Dad in over six months, barely heard from him either."

Evie considered the two men a moment, she had a strange habit of just looking to one side of them that Sam found disconcerting. "I see, well he failed to mention _that_. I met him because we'd both gone after the same demon. It was odd, he didn't want to kill it, only to talk to it."

Dean and Sam looked at each other uncomfortably.

"That doesn't sound like him." Dean told her.

"No, it didn't sit comfortably with him, but it had information John needed apparently." Suddenly she laughed. "Dean, you maybe made for the coast, but your brother's suffering, let's find somewhere warm."

She led the way back into town.

"So, you sound like you know what's been attacking these people," Dean said as he kept up with her.

She looked around to make sure they could both hear her.

"It's those words that clinches it, though I suspected it from the start. It's no wonder you couldn't find anything on it Sam, it's very specific to my home. There are stories of the black ship coming to carry away the souls of the wicked right around the coast, the ship, the cloud, the storm, the words, all the same. The next question is what a Cornish legend is doing on the other side of the Atlantic."

"You saying that ten wicked men died the other day?" Sam asked.

"No," she frowned. "Nine innocent men, and one questionable man died. Neville Blakelock was involved in smuggling. Did you pick that up about the other deaths?" She asked, and as she looked round Sam noticed her eyes had changed again, now a lighter, clearer blue.

"Pick up what?" Dean asked, when Sam remained silent.

"That the men who died in the other towns were all smugglers. They smuggled different things, but they all did it."

"No," Dean replied, with a glance at Sam. "We didn't pick that up."

She shrugged, "Well, I've been working this a bit longer I guess."

She lead the way into a coffee shop and waved to the waitress, who smiled back as if she was a long lost friend.

Evie took off her coat, the lining flashed an iridescent blue and gold. Around her neck was an odd piece of silver jewelry, like a bangle only for her neck, made of a few twisted silver wires and ended on each side by a horses head.

Sam was uncomfortable. There was something about this woman but he couldn't say what. He was sure she wasn't evil, but her attitude, her confidence, he found a little off putting.

"So, how do we stop this thing?" Dean asked.

"That's just the thing," she sighed. "No one's ever needed to before. When the Black Ship shows up locals are thankful, it means the end of someone's tyranny. We don't know where it comes from, when it began, only that it exists."

They waited as the waitress brought coffee over for Dean and Sam, a pot of tea was placed in front of Evie.

"Thanks, Margot."

The woman smiled again.

"Karen's out back, she said she wanted to talk to you. She'll be out in a while."

Once she'd gone, Dean picked up the thread.

"Whatever this thing's done in the past, it's killing now, and we have to stop it."

"I agree," she answered. "But first we have to figure out why it's killing."

"May be we're looking at this wrong," Sam said. He leaned forward and instinctively the others followed suit. "We've been looking at this as if the ship's hunting. Well, what if it's just collecting?"

"What's the difference?" Dean asked.

"No," Evie replied. "No, he's right. The ship is looking for someone. The same person."

"Someone who's figured out how to avoid it," Sam completed.

"It makes sense," Evie said, pouring her tea. He saw that she had slim tattoos of a celtic design around both wrists. "It even explains why ten were taken last time, it's trying to make sure it gets it's man."

"So, not much intelligence then," Dean said.

"No, it's almost mechanical. It's logical, it's picked up six men and none of them were the right one, so this time it took the one, plus the nine nearest. I bet if we looked we'd find that Blakelock was in the centre of the group. Good thinking, Sam…why don't you like me?"

Her directness threw him for a loop.

"I don't…don't like you," he stuttered. "I…"

She put her head to one side and grinned suddenly, her emotions seemed to change as capriciously as the weather.

"Would it help if I told you I can see auras? That's how I can tell how you're feeling. Look, I know we've hit the ground running here and you haven't had time to find out about me. Give me a chance, okay? Come to my place tonight, I'll cook supper and tell you everything you want to know."

"Evie!"

They all looked to see quite the most beautiful woman walking down from the back of the shop, taking off her apron as she came. Her green eyes focused entirely on Evie, who turned to give her full attention.

"Karen, how are you my hansome?"

"Yeah." She smiled, and sat down on the spare chair Evie pushed out for her. "Good. So, you coming tonight?"

Evie stared at her a beat longer than necessary.

"I can't," she finally said, regretfully, and pushed away a strand of red hair from Karen's face. "I have to work."

Karen looked disappointed. She reached out and played with the collar of Evie's top.

"I thought you were singing there tonight. Isn't _that_ your work?"

"This is something else, something I can't avoid."

"I've been really looking forward to tonight," Karen said in a voice that made Dean twitch. Then she leant forward and whispered in Evie's ear, what ever she said it made Evie close her eyes in pain.

"I really can't make it," she finally forced out of herself. "Believe me, I'm hurting me more than you."

"Oh," she said with a wink. "You got that right."

Karen left, and Evie's head sank to the table, where she casually hit it a couple of times.

"I'm a martyr," she said, to no one in particular. She looked up in time to see Karen saunter off down the street. "She's such a pretty thing too." Suddenly she caught Dean's eye. "Be very careful about what you say next."

Dean just shook his head, with a contented smile. "I'm happy in my own thoughts."

Evie clapped her hands smartly and shook them at the wrists.

"Okay, what's the plan of action?"

Dean was still happy in his own world, so Sam answered.

"If the ship's looking for someone, then it's possible in each town there will have been someone who left around the same time."

"That person has to be wicked, so it's likely he'll have attracted more attention than the average bloke," Evie added. "Hey, you with us yet?"

Dean blinked. "Well, the guy at the hotel seemed to know what was going on. I'll ask him."

"There may be police reports," Sam said.

"Oh, good luck," Evie replied. "I hate messing with those – too many questions. There are a couple of reporters I know who've followed this story around the coast, I'll see if they've heard anything."

"What I don't get," Dean said, after taking a sip of his coffee. "Is why this dude would even stay by the coast. I mean, if a ship is looking to drag you off to hell, wouldn't you just go inland?"

Evie's eyes turned deep blue. She looked out at the grey green sea. "Not necessarily," she answered, her voice far away. "Some people can't bear being far away from the water…Shit, I have to make some phone calls. Why didn't I…" she got up suddenly and put on her coat. "I'll pay you later Margot! I've got to go, if you follow the road out of town, look for the first field on your left, that's where I'm parked."

She was gone in a swirl of black leather and blue satin.

"Well that's interesting," Dean said, draining his mug. "You don't trust her?"

Sam frowned. "It's not that, she's just…I don't know. It's like she's too familiar. Like she's always known us."

"She can see auras," Dean explained, shrugging.

"May be," he answered non-committedly. he took his jacket from the back of the chair. "She reminds me of someone, I just can't think who."

Dean passed his cell over. "Ring dad."

"What?"

"Go on, ring him. Tell him we've met her and ask if we can trust her."

"Like we'll get an answer," Sam replied, but he still took the phone.

"If he thinks she's dangerous, he'll let us know," Dean insisted, stubbornly.

"Dean, he didn't ring when you were dying!"

The two brothers glared at each other.

"Just make the call," Dean said through his teeth. Sam made the call.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks everyone's kind words, it does a girl's heart good :) 

Dean left Sam in town with relief. Their dad hadn't rung. He'd been in a hospital bed staring the Grim Reaper full in the face and not a word, not even a text. What was so important that he couldn't have done that? Or was it that he just wasn't so important?

'Are you that desperate for Dad's approval?' Sam hadn't been himself when he'd said those words, but Dean knew they'd come from somewhere. And may be Sam was right, but with the way Sam went on, he felt unable to say a bad word about him himself. The balance had to be maintained he guessed.

The poor weather that had dogged the morning had cleared by the time he reached the hotel. Before entering, Dean looked out on the now sparkling sea. They should get to the coast more often.

"Ah, my only guests," Tim, the manager, said expansively when he realised he didn't have fresh blood at the counter.

"Yeah," Dean replied with a small frown. "What's with that? The town's humming with activity, you should be full."

Tim tidied up the tourist leaflets along side the guest book.

"Until all this happened I had only one guest and his retinue here. They came and just took over. Were here nearly three months. I never saw the cops in my life as often as I saw them then."

Dean couldn't believe his luck. Things never went this easily.

"There were thefts, rapes, even a disappearance. Not to mention what ever Mr. Treve was actually in to. They never could find any evidence to prove anything though. I'd have done anything to get rid of them, even if he did pay well. Then, the day the black ship came, he packed up and left. Half an hour, I swear, and you wouldn't have known they were there. But it's done my business no good. It's like I'm being blamed for what they did. No one will recommend me any more."

That didn't say much for the mechanic who sent them this way.

"Tell me, did they do anything strange while they were there?" Dean asked in inspiration. "Anything that didn't make sense, I don't' mean..."

"Yeah, they did come to think of it," he replied, now scratching his thinning hair. 'The day they came, Mr. Treve sent two men down the cliff with something."

Dean turned and pointed through the glass door at the cliff directly ahead.

"Just over there?"

"That's right. Whatever they took down, it didn't come back up with them."

ooooooooooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooooo

The Impala pulled up along side Sam and he got in, carrying a sheaf of print-outs.

"What did you find?"

"Treve's a big time smuggler," Sam told his brother as he settled in. "He deals in anything, drugs, antiquities, people - you name it he'll do it. They think he uses ordinary fishing trawlers to pick up from freighters that stay out in international waters, but none of the men caught will give Treve up."

"Too scared?"

"Way too scared," Sam agreed, rubbing his eyes. Somehow he'd ended up with all the screen work on this one. "People go missing when he's around. Or found in unpleasant ways. One guy up in Jersey they found upside down in a new concrete pylon, they only knew who he was because his hands and legs were sticking out."

"What a charmer," Dean murmured as he took the road out of town.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"Evie's cooking for us, remember?"

"One other thing, Treve's a Cornish name."

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

Alone in the first field on the left was a camper van. The tent extension was up, a faded blue and yellow, but the van itself, though old, was in good condition. Evie was outside, cutting up salad stuff at a table, she'd dug a fire pit to one side where she was getting ready to barbeque what looked like a tonne of meat.

"Sweet," she said appreciatively as the car drew up. "Haven't seen one of those in while."

Dean, in the mean time, was peering around the side of her van.

"That a Harley?"

She nodded. "With a life like mine it's nice to have a mobile home, but it doesn't exactly move like the wind. I need something that'll get me from A to B in a hurry."

Suddenly there was a growl. The brothers turned in time to see a huge beast of a hound leap, snarling, at them.

"Friends!" Evie shouted.

The dog melted away into the air.

"What was that?" Dean demanded.

"That's Caleb. He's my dog."

"You have a thought form for a dog?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't make him any less effective as a guard as you can see. Plus, I don't have to feed or walk him. I don't have a brother to watch my back, remember, I need all the protection I can get."

"So you do this full time?" Sam asked.

"Yup, just like you."

"How'd you make your money?"

"She sings," Dean answered from beside her bike.

"Actually that's a side line," she said. "I'm an electrician. There's always work when I need it. And there's some family money, but that comes with strings," she said evasively. "So, what did you find out?"

Evie was silent while Dean and Sam told her. Her eyes, always so expressive, even when her face showed no emotion, were in turn deep, then pale.

"We need to get down that cliff then," Evie said.

"How's your head for heights?" Dean asked.

"I don't mind heights," she replied. "It's all that air between me and the sharp rocks below that unsettle me. Have you got climbing gear?"

"No," Sam told her.

"Me neither. We'll have to make do."

"Your turn," Sam said.

Evie started to cook the chicken and ribs.

"I haven't got all my replies yet, but it looks like my hunch is right. I think he's a distant family member, there are some of us who just can't bear to be away from the sea for long."

"Are you one of them?" Dean asked.

"I don't like being away from water, it doesn't have to be the sea. Anyway, that's why he's not doing the sensible thing and moving inland. Now, we're hoping..."

"We?"

"I do have family, Sam," she answered. "They may be across the water, but they're still there for me. They're hoping to dowse for him, that's the call I'm waiting for. Oh, and my reporter guys came up with Treve's name too. He's definitely the common denominator, he was in every town when an attack happened."

Sam spread his hands. "So we just have to find him?"

Evie handed him a plate. "And figure out how he's doing this."

Dean looked momentarily lost that somehow his brother had got a plate but he hadn't. Evie passed him a second plate with a sigh. "I only have one pair of hands, boy."

"Then there's the matter of what to do with him." Dean said, before stuffing a chicken leg in his mouth.

"You do realise he's going to have to die?" Evie said, watching Sam carefully.

Her phone rang. Flipping it open, Evie put it on speaker so she could keep cooking.

"Hello bird."

Hello love. How are you?

"I'm good. Got a couple of new friends."

- So I heard. They like their father?

Evie looked at them with a twinkle in her eye.

"Better looking. Not so grumpy either."

- Decided which one you're going to make a play for?

Sam choked on a bit of salad.

"I swear, you must be the only woman left in Britain who can't tell she's on speaker phone!"

The woman seemed undisturbed.

-Oh, are they there?

"I'm cooking them supper."

- Ah, going for both?

"You seriously need to get laid, Mum! Get yourself off to The Barn, find a nice young man and shag his brains out!" She stifled a laugh at the brothers' faces. "Have you got an answer for me?"

- Not yet. With so little to go on it could take weeks.

"We don't have weeks. We may have something more for you tomorrow, but he won't be far, and he'll be next to water. I'll speak to you soon."

-Going already?

"Well, I have guests, and you seem about ready to give them apoplexy, which I don't fancy explaining to their dad. Love you.

She put the phone back in her pocket.

"Sorry, Mum's usually a bit of a shock to people."

Dean nodded. "So, you're not gay?"


	5. Chapter 5

Sam woke up cold on a camp bed in the camper-vans lean-to tent. The door had been shut behind Dean and Evie at about eleven o'clock, and that was that. Only now he really wanted to get warm, and go to the toilet.

The old canvas bed creaked as he sat up and rubbed his head. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to go in. He decided to keep his head resolutely down on the way to Evie's small toilet cum shower. He pulled his pants back on and slipped his feet into his shoes before staggering over to the door. He took a deep breath, and opened it.

All over the small camper van lay tools of their trade. Dean's EMF reader, and the thermal scanner lay next to Evie's versions of the same, some equally odd devices sat beside them on the table, along with a torch, a rock salt cartridge, and what looked like a bowl of gunk. Among all the mess, which Sam knew hadn't been there the night before, Dean was lying back on the longer couch, his mouth wide open, Evie lay with her head on her hands on the table, both asleep, both fully dressed.

Evie stirred and opened her eyes.

"Is it morning already?" She looked out of the window. "Wow."

"I just needed the bathroom," Sam said quietly.

"Help yourself," she answered. Her face was red on one side where it had lain on her hand. She looked at Dean and suppressed a laugh.

By the time Sam returned, she already had the kettle on.

"So, you talked shop all night?"

She saw the twinkle in his eye and grinned.

"Don't laugh. I know, sad isn't it? It's just so great to spend time with someone who loves his job like I do." She passed him a cup of tea. Then she laughed again, trying to keep quiet for Dean's sake. "You still haven't made your mind up about me?"

Sam smiled, but then his face went serious.

"Why are you here, Evie? Why are you in America?"

"I'm looking for someone." She reached into a drawer and pulled out an old picture of a man. Judging by the style, it had probably been taken in the late 70s. "Keep it, I've plenty more. His name's Jack Trevelyan"

"Why are you looking for him?"

"Because I have to kill him."

She said it so matter-of-factly that it didn't quite sink in at first. Sam blinked and stuttered.

"You what?"

"Yeah, you what?"

Dean had woken up, and was staring at her from the couch. Unconcerned, she put the kettle back on.

"It's what I was born to do. Raised to do." She laughed sadly. "And you think you guys had an unconventional childhood."

"But why?" Sam asked, glancing at his concerned brother.

"Because I'm the only one who can," she explained with a sigh. She poured milk into Dean's tea and took it to him. "If I don't, it's possible he'll never die, and the damage he'll cause just doesn't bear thinking about."

"May be I'm still foggy," Dean said. "But you're not making much sense."

"He sold his soul to the Devil," she explained.

"I didn't think Witches believed in the Devil," Sam said.

"Well, apparently the Devil doesn't need us to believe in him, he's doing very well without us." She realized immediately she'd answered flippantly. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm so used to this I forget it shocks people. You can't have billions of Christians and Muslims over the centuries believing in a supreme evil being, and not have that being exist. To all intents and purposes, Satan exists, and Jack Trevelyan is one of a long line of people to sell his soul."

"What kind of idiot does that?" Sam asked.

"A lawyer."

"Figures." Dean snorted.

"He thought he'd come up with a full proof deal. Thought he'd figured out a way of beating the Devil at its own game. He didn't of course, but he got close. Close enough for him not to not even realise there's a loophole. It's just my bad luck that I was born with the right ingredients needed to put him out of the world's misery. I've been tracking him for years now, right through Europe, I just missed him in Moscow, and now here. He doesn't know I'm after him, but he knows the Foundation could make his life hard so he keeps his head down."

"The Foundation?" Sam asked, shaking his head.

"It's just a blanket pagan organization. They feel responsible for Jack's defection, so they help me," she explained. "So, can I trust you guys to let me know if you see him?" She looked pointedly at Sam.

Sam put the photo down on the counter.

"You'd be asking me to as good as kill him myself."

"You kill things all the time," she argued.

"She's got a point, Sam," Dean said.

"We don't kill humans," he answered stubbornly.

"But is a person still human if they haven't got a soul?" She asked. "Doesn't a soulless human count as any other type of monster? Just think about that for me." She looked at the clock on her wall without waiting for an answer. "We should have breakfast and get moving. Peter's going to be waiting down at the dock's for Dean to collect the boat soon."

"What boat?"

"The skiff you're going to take round so you can guide Sam and I while we're dangling from our tow ropes. I phoned him last night, asked him to get it supplied for us."

"Just how long have you been in this town?" Sam asked.

"I arrived the morning before you, why?"

"How do you have so many friends already?" Sam asked, mystified.

She cocked her head on one side.

"Because, Sam Winchester, most people trust me."

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

Evie left them to get some bacon from the farmer on who's land she was camping.

"Dude, how can you still not trust her?"

Dean demanded, the moment she was out of ear shot.

Sam waved his hands in the air.

"I don't know. Really I don't. There's just something about her. The way she is, the way she's just so good at everything."

"You don't trust her because she's a good hunter?" Dean asked incredulously. He was washing out his mug, which was something Sam thought he'd never seen before.

"I trust her. Kinda." Dean looked at him, frustrated. Sam knew he wasn't making any sense. "I still can't quite get who she reminds me of. And now there's this whole murder thing."

Dean slammed the mug down on the draining board.

"Man, you've got to get over that, this Jack Trevelyan _sold his soul, _Evie's right, that makes him non-human now."

"You sure about that?" Sam asked, frowning. Dean was always more ready to end human life than he was any way, a thing Evie obviously knew judging by the attention she always seemed to give him when the matter had come up. So far he'd managed to keep his brother on the straight and narrow, Evie's influence might just make his job that much harder. "Besides, we only have her word on all of this."

"She hasn't lied to us yet," Dean muttered. He seemed to be taking this very personally. "And I see you're quite happy to eat her food and accept her help while you're at it."

Dean had started tidying up. Possibly another first. Then, typically, when ever they reached an impasse, he changed the subject.

"Man, she is full of great ideas, see this?" He showed him the bowl of grey gunk. "Flour, water and silver nitrate, you throw it in a werewolf's eyes, it burns them, gives you time to put a bullet in its skull."

Sam let Dean chatter on until Evie got back with bacon and eggs. He was as bothered by the fact that he was bothered as by Evie herself. It was silly to say he didn't trust her, she hadn't done anything to deserve it, and since they were about to scale a cliff together, with nothing but their tow ropes to keep them safe, he figured he'd better get over it.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooo

Dean dropped them off outside the hotel and sped off for his appointment with Peter and the boat with a smile on his face.

"You sure putting Dean in charge of a speed boat is a good idea?" Sam asked as they watched him go.

Evie picked up the two long iron stakes they would be using to anchor their ropes.

"It's not a speed boat, it's a skiff, and why not? He obviously handles speed well."

"But he's never done it before."

"Sure he has," she answered with a frown. "John and him spent a month in California trying to track down some rogue water sprite…or something…I was pretty exhausted by the time we got to that discussion."

Sam didn't answer. Now she knew stuff about his brother that he didn't know.

Evie peered over the edge of the cliff.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," she said.

"It'll be okay." Sam assured her.

"That's easy for you to say," she said darkly, then looked at him, her eyes were dark and cloudy. "I think I'm the red shirt in all this."

It didn't stop her from hammering the stakes into the ground, while Sam untied the ropes. He looked down, it was crazy what they were about to do, Evie was right, but they had to know; and it wasn't as if any of them had done stupid things before. A boat came buzzing round the headland, framed in spray.

"Here he comes."

Sam fixed the hands-free device that Evie had lent him into his ear.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Dean was loving it! He pushed the brand new skiff that Evie had magically persuaded a man to lend to a stranger to its limits. The phone rang.

"You wanna focus?" Sam demanded. "It's not getting any warmer."

It was true, the rain was holding off, but the sky was grey, and the wind, though not strong, was coming straight off the ocean with nothing to stop it closer than Cornwall.

Dean got into position, and brought the binoculars to his eyes.

"Okay, I'm ready."

He watched the matchbox figures ease themselves over the edge of the cliff about ten metres away from each other. Dean's job was to look for any promising nooks and crannies where an object could be secured. He had definitely got the best job that day.

Sam glanced over at Evie, he knew from what he was having to do that she had to be strong, they were using nothing but fancy knot work to keep them up, old fashioned methods from the time before climbing got hi-tech. She concentrated on scanning the rock face within her reach. Sam looked down. The tide was out, and below them sharp rocks just waited.

"Hey, Sammy, you gonna do any work here?" Dean's voice came through the ear piece.

Dean laughed as he watched his brother gesticulating like an action toy far above him.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "But check out that ledge below you."

Muttering to himself, Sam dropped a few feet to the next crack in the rock, to his left Evie slipped down and started to examine a new section of the cliff.

Every viable place Sam had investigated so far had been covered in seagull droppings, well, he assumed they were seagulls. This new place Dean had directed him to was clean, more than that, it looked swept.

"I may have something here," he said. Evie instantly stopped what she was doing to watch.

"Be careful," she called. Way below them, Dean jerked the phone from his ear.

"Ow! He yelled at her. "Don't shout!"

Sam tried to lean in, but his entire body seemed to be pushed away. The rope swayed like a pendulum.

"Easy!" Evie warned.

Again he tried to reach for the crack, he could see that it went deeper than usual, a tiny cave just big enough for a hand. Again he was pushed away by an invisible force.

"Can you hold on long enough for me to get there?" Evie called, ignoring Dean's renewed protests.

"Give me one more try," Sam shouted back. Dean nearly shut the phone.

This time Sam moved away from the target, then he pushed hard against the rock face, jumping sideways. He reached out his hand for the hollow, before he could be repulsed he closed his fist around a soft pouch. Then the shock wave hit him, and he was at the epicentre.

From where she was hanging, Evie saw Sam's eyes go blank.

Down below, Dean watched in horror as his brother fell lifeless towards the rocks below them.


	6. Chapter 6

Down below, Dean watched in horror as his brother fell lifeless towards the rocks below them.

Then there were two falling bodies. Evie had launched herself into space, helplessly Dean watched her catch Sam, her trajectory taking them away from the rocks and shallows to the deeper water beyond.

Released from stasis, Dean powered up the skiff and brought it closer. Cutting the engine he rushed to the side, looking down into the murky green water.

"Sammy!" He searched around frantically, then made to jump in himself.

"Dean!"

At the stern, Evie appeared holding Sam's head, he was still unconscious. The boat rocked as Dean rushed to pull him out of the freezing water, leaving Evie to haul herself out alone.

Sam didn't move, his skin was white, his lips blue, Dean put out his hand to feel for a pulse, but Evie stopped him.

"He's alive, he hasn't even got much water in his lungs, it's the cold that's gonna get him." She took a small knife from a sheath strapped to her ankle. "Take your tops off."

"What?"

She had already started cutting Sam's clothes away, her blade slicing effortlessly through the sodden materials.

"Your clothes are warm," she explained, still breathing hard from her exertion.

Leaning his unconscious body against hers, Evie stripped Sam as quickly as she could. His hand was still frozen into a fist. She pried it open to find a leather pouch bound with a black silk ribbon. Evie threw it into a corner then took the towel offered by Dean and rubbed him down.

"Okay, you get him dressed," she ordered and gently handed his care to Dean.

Dean was vaguely aware of the skiff moving away from the cliff. He dressed Sam in his clothes as best he could. Evie threw a blanket over to them and he wrapped them both in it, using his own warmth to try to kick start Sam's.

"Where are you taking us?" He called.

"There's a cove a little further on," she answered. We can bring the boat right in, and there's plenty of driftwood for a fire. It's quicker than heading for the docks."

Before long Dean heard sand grind the underneath of the boat and looked up. Sam's lips were still blue, but it did look like some colour was returning to his face.

Evie splashed into the shallow water.

"Come on."

Together they carried Sam over to a hollow in the cliff, not quite a cave, but enough for some protection.

"We need wood, Dean," Evie said. "Sam'll be okay for a few minutes."

She was right, there were tonnes of wood scattered on the beach, Dean threw them into a pile near Sam, while Evie carried supplies from the boat.

"The blessing of the Goddess on Peter," she said. "He's done us proud."

She threw Dean an old flannel shirt that smelled of engine oil, he'd been so concerned about Sam he hadn't even noticed the cold. Evie poured gas over the driftwood pile, a single spark from her flint and steel had the lot blazing in moments.

"How's he doing?" She asked, Dean was back by his side, rubbing his chest and back vigorously. She passed him another blanket.

"He's still unconscious," Dean said, his fear made him queasy.

"Yeah, but he's okay," Evie assured him, touching his cold face. "He'll be fine."

"How can you know?" He demanded.

"His aura would show up any problems. Trust me, Dean, Sam's going to be fine, the danger's over. Stay with him, I'll go see what else Peter left us."

"Come on, Sammy, wake up," Dean muttered.

"Oh dear."

There was nothing else, no explanation to what Evie was concerned about.

"Oh dear what?" Dean looked around.

Evie had collapsed only a few feet away from the skiff. With a surge of guilt, Dean remembered that it hadn't only been Sam who'd fallen, who'd got wet and chilled.

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

"I feel like I've been stored in a freezer," Sam groaned as soon as he realised he was awake.

"Sammy!" Dean left Evie's side to check on him.

"Sam," he unconsciously corrected. "What happened?"

"Whatever that thing was, it must have made you black out," Dean told him. "But you're okay now. Here, drink this."

He offered him coffee from a flask.

"Why am I in your clothes?"

"Because they were warm and dry. Drink up."

Sam looked around at the makeshift camp in wonder.

"Where did all this come from?"

"It was all in the hold. Evie asked Peter to pack it up for us."

"How did she know we'd need it?"

Dean's face, which had shown such relief just a moment before, now closed down.

"Oh man, don't start that again."

"I'm just asking."

"That's it Sam!" He said vehemently. He pointed to where Evie lay wrapped in blankets, her face was turned to the fire and it was as white as a sheet. "That woman threw herself off a cliff to save you! Then she dragged you to the surface, helped get you out of your wet clothes, brought us here, it wasn't until she knew you were safe that she collapsed herself! So I don't want to hear it anymore. After what she's done, I think she's earned our trust!"

Dean waited fiercely for his agreement.

"But don't you think that's odd?" Sam persisted. "Who the hell could pull that off? Even an Olympic athlete couldn't ..."

"Sammy…" Dean growled.

"I'm sorry."

"That'll do for a start." He went back over to her. "Mind you, she's got some weird tatts."

"What d'you mean?"

Sam realised that of course he'd have had to have stripped her by himself. Sure enough, he now saw her clothes lying next to the fire on a make shift clothes line. He thought the bra might be beginning to melt.

"Right round her body," Dean was saying. "All these markings, they look like snakes but it's all Celtic images and Ogham."

Sam carefully sat up. His body ached, but not as badly as it should have.

"Ogham?" He asked, frowning.

"It's an old Irish form of writing. Must have taken ages to do."

"Two days," Evie mumbled through her blanket. "Two days of meditation, chanting and pain." She opened her eyes, her eyes were pale. "It was worth it though, I swear they've saved my life on any number of occasions."

Dean looked at her closely. "How're you doing?"

"I'll live," she answered, and tried to sit up. Dean helped her, and she winced as he touched her right arm.

"Let me have a look at that."

Evie let the blanket slip and Dean inspected the damage. She looked down.

"Ooh, pretty colours," she said weakly.

"Yeah, and it'll get worse before it gets better." Dean reached over and pulled a small first aid kit to him.

"It'll be alright Dean," she told him. "The sea water will have cleaned the grazes.

Sam watched them, two soldiers dealing with a wound, there was no suggestion of anything else despite the fact that Evie was naked but for a blanket with Dean's arm around her.

"Cold?" Evie nodded. Dean sat down and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back as he had with Sam earlier. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Evie rested her head on his shoulder. She looked at Sam with pale eyes. Sam felt terrible for his doubts.

"Alright, bird?" She asked.

"Thanks to you," he answered. "What you did, it was amazing."

"There wasn't much thought involved. Oh, you mean the Olympic thing. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Sam looked at her crookedly. "Come on, this is us."

"Okay," she answered, her voice already sounding a little stronger. "I have a mermaid for an ancestor."

Dean stopped rubbing.

"What?"

"A mermaid?" Sam asked with an incredulous smile.

"Oh the big, experienced Winchester boys," she said. "Can't quite get your head around a mermaid. Well, so the story goes. All I know is that I can swim faster, deeper and further for longer than anyone else I know of." She raised her head, looking about her. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The pouch you got from the cliff."

Dean pulled away to look at her.

"He got it?"

"Yeah, I almost needed a crowbar to get it out of his fist. I left it in the boat."

Dean went to find it. Evie shuffled over to her clothes, only her fleece jacket passed muster, she let the blanket slip off as if she wasn't being watched, and Sam saw the tattoos Dean had told him about briefly before she slipped the jacket on, pulling the blanket back around her.

"Here we go," Dean said, coming back.

Sam took the pouch, now stained by sea water, he weighed it in his hand and could feel small things shake inside.

"It doesn't feel like anything."

"The sea water would have neutralised it," Evie replied. "Open it."

Dean poured Evie coffee while Sam fumbled with the black silk ribbon. His fingers were still cold.

"Need help with that?" Dean asked.

"I can do it." He wasn't sure how much more of helpful Dean he could take.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Watched for a bit longer, then took it out of his hands.

"Dean!" He protested.

Dean just shot him an impatient look before ripping the ribbon open.

"You could have used my knife," Evie said. Both men looked at her. "I was just saying."

Carefully Dean placed the pouch on the ground and spread it open. Everyone leaned in to get a better look.

Small quartz crystals, ground smooth and perfectly round, lay among seeds and some other bits and pieces, a sliver of wood, some grey hair.

"Garnet, jet, lots of obsidian. I don't want to _know_ what that is," Evie said poking a something soft with a stick. "The quartz holds the intention I suppose, everything else is designed to repel. I can't imagine a smuggler like Treve being able to give this stuff any power."

"So he's got someone doing it for him."

"Will we have to deal with him too?" Sam asked.

"I doubt a magic worker would stick around, he'd come only when he was needed." She seemed to be recovering quickly now.

"So this must be how he's getting the ship to miss him," Dean said. "But what's with it taking the others?"

They were all silent. Sam closed the pouch up and put in his, well, Dean's pocket.

"Lures," Evie suddenly said. "Maybe they're lures, you push it away with one thing, and encourage it to another place with another."

"Which means these men were hand picked," Dean concluded. "Nice."

"We have to find this man fast," Evie told them both. "The attacks have been coming quicker and quicker, if we don't move on this soon, more are going to die."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "And God knows how many more. We can't wait for your family to get back to you, Evie, we have to find him now."

She nodded. "I know. So, what's the next move?"

"Well, now you're both awake, we should get back. Get you both into warm clothes." Dean looked at Sam. "Well, your own clothes anyway."

Evie looked about them. "Just looking at everything we have to move makes me ache."

Dean looked at her askance, then suddenly picked her up, carried her to the boat, and dumped her in it. She was laughing by the time she hit the boat.

"And don't move!" He ordered. He returned to the fire muttering, then looked at his brother. "You can make your own damned way over."

"Like I'd let you carry me," Sam answered. They stared at each other a moment. Sam had almost been lost. Both brothers were more shaken than they'd like to admit.


	7. Chapter 7

Evie sat huddled in the boat. She was exhausted. She looked up at the height of the cliffs above her, if her family ever found out what she'd done there'd be hell to pay. They never liked her risking her life, but what she'd done was almost suicide - that was how they'd see it anyway, but none of them had her feel for the water. She'd known that the water was deep in that one area, she'd known that so long as she could get Sam and her there, they'd both survive. She hadn't been in danger until the moment she'd got out of the water.

That had been stupid. Saving Sam, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world. But not looking after herself – her who usually only ever had herself to worry about – that had been madness. Idiocy.

Her arm was killing her. She hadn't even noticed the rocks scraping her arm at the time.

She looked up as Sam climbed in to the skiff, then leant her head against the side. Dean would be a while loading the boat up again, she should take that time to rest. What ever the reason she had met the Winchesters was, she knew instinctively that they were going to need her, they were going to need her talents. _Yes_ she thought, _rest now, while you can_.

The small town came into view as Dean rounded the headland. Evie had barely moved the whole time, she just sat huddled in a corner. Some how seeing her vulnerable like that made Sam feel better about her, what ever she was, she was human and imperfect.

Now that the scare was over Dean was back to his annoying self, Sam had never thought there could be a long way round on the water, but some how Dean managed to find it. Sam was not a good sailor, in fact he could count the times he'd been on a boat on one hand, and that included the pedal boat Jessica had insisted they go on last summer.

It didn't make sense that Treve would stay next to the sea. The attacks, which had started out months apart, were now closing to weeks. A business man needed to stay in one place longer than that, even in this digital age. Evie had mentioned once that she didn't need to be by the sea, just near water. There were plenty of lakes inland, and lakes had rivers that led to the sea…

"Don't take us in," he called to Dean.

Dean looked round, surprised. "Thought you couldn't wait to get back on dry land."

"I can't, but there's somewhere we need to go first. Keep going along the coast a ways."

Dean shrugged. "It's alright by me, you up for it Evie?"

She roused herself. "What's your thinking?"

Sam explained himself. "I'm pretty sure I'd recognize that feeling if we passed another barrier."

"I'm sure you would too," Evie answered. "Seeing as it nearly killed you."

"What if he has gone in land? He'd be by a water course, wouldn't he?"

"And all water leads to the sea," Evie completed.

"Then all we have to do is find which one and track it upstream," Dean finished.

"Pass me another blanket then," Evie said.

They carried on, following the rocky coastline for a good three or four miles. They had passed a couple of small river mouths, but Sam had felt nothing. It didn't help that Dean kept looking around at him like he was some nautical instrument.

Then Sam's senses picked up, Evie too suddenly sat straight and looked over to the shore. As the small skiff closed in on the mouth of the river, even Dean began to feel something.

"I think we've found a winner," Dean said, slowing the boat.

Without power, the skiff was being pushed gently away from land, and the tide was coming in.

"Okay," Evie sighed, throwing her blankets off. "At least this time I'm ready."

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded.

"In the water," she said. "We can't leave it there. And what's the point of coming back?' She cocked her head. "I'll be fine. Just have the blankets ready." She passed the blankets over to Sam, then her fleece, giving him a good view of the tattoos Dean told him about, they were intricate and wound around her torso with no apparent join. Evie saw him looking, he looked away.

"Sorry."

"I don't care." She said. "I was never taught to be ashamed of my body.'

"Amen," Dean said.

She dived in. They looked for her but she didn't breach the surface.

"So," Dean said, coming over to wait by Sam. "Part mermaid. Cool."

Sam laughed. "You know you can talk all you want, don't forget I know what you didn't do last night."

Before Dean could answer, a shock wave pulsed under the surface of the water. A few seconds later Evie reappeared at the stern. She threw a second pouch into the boat, then took Dean's hand. The moment she was on the boat Sam threw the blankets over her.

"The pouch was kept in a waterproof bag, the moment I ripped it open it was neutralised. Good, let's get home then," Evie said, pulling her blankets around her once more.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

The moment Evie had learned that Sam and Dean had a bath, they lost it. An hour later she emerged from the steam as if the day hadn't happened, her eyes were clear deep blue again, and sparkled.

"It was a good call," Dean told her. "There's a lake at the end of this river."

She sat next to him on the bed wearing a bath robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Her legs showed pink from the heat of the water where the robe parted.

"It's what, twenty odd miles in? We could make that by night fall easy."

"Not with your van we couldn't."

"Forget the van, I'll follow you on the bike."

"Will it be safe like that?" Sam asked her.

"With Caleb?" She laughed. "No one's going to get in. I'll need to pick up a few things first."

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

Forty minutes later, with camping equipment, food, and a pair of flippers now jostling for room with the brothers' gear on the back seat, Dean was driving towards the lake with Evie close behind on her Harley. Dean kept looking in the mirror at her.

"What?" Sam demanded. "Something's bothering _you_ about her now then?"

"No." Dean shook his head. There was a gleam in his eye that made Sam nervous. "I just want to see how good she is."

Suddenly he pushed his foot down, and the Impala sped away along the narrow and twisted road. After a moment, Evie joined the race.

The trip should have taken an hour, they got there in just over half the time, only slowing when Dean brought the car off onto the dirt road leading them almost straight into the bushes that shielded the lake from sight. The Harley skidded to a halt next to them. Dean was smiling, and when she pulled her helmet off, Evie was laughing gleefully.

"You're a maniac!" He said.

"You're one to talk!" She answered. On a high from the adrenaline, she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him, then pushed him away.

Sam watched all this to one side, and suddenly something clicked, he realised what had been bothering him, and because it was all so pointless he laughed out loud. Evie looked at him with those clear blue eyes, looked to the side, as she always did when she read someone's aura, then looked back.

"Well, you've just resolved something," she said to him.

"I've just realised who you remind me of," he told her with a smile.

"Who?"

"Dean." He shrugged. "You remind me of Dean."

"You hear that?" She said immediately. "You're a male Evie."

"No, you're a female Dean," he replied.

"Dream on, Motormouth." She walked over to the edge of the lake.

"You're a she me!" He called after her.

Her laughter drifted back to them only to fade away. "Guys, come and see this."

They pushed their way through the bushes to join her. The setting winter sun had left the sky a worn denim white, in the paleness the trees framed the sky in the mirrored lake, a salmon pink only now touching one edge. At the far end, alone on the lake, was an old shingled house, built on several levels into the hill behind. Although it was too far away to see clearly, the light caught a tiny waterfall that glinted alongside the white shingles. A jetty with a small fishing dingy moored by it stood in front, and a man dressed in black stood at ease on guard.

"This place is far too beautiful for scum like that," Evie said, and headed back to the car.

By the time Sam and Dean had followed her she already had the tent out.

"So now what?" Sam asked. "We just wait for a death ship to follow the river in it's own time?"

"Screw that," Dean said. "It could take weeks."

"He uses lures," Evie reminded them. "We need our own. It would help if we knew how he did it."

Sam helped her put the dome tent up, leaving Dean to unload the car.

"Whatever they're doing has to include planting something on the victims that's personal to Treve," Dean said, waving Evie's flippers around as he spoke.

"Clothes?" Sam suggested.

Evie caught the flippers from Dean, and stowed them with the rest of her gear.

"Well, they were all smugglers, it's not inconceivable that they worked for him. He could have made them a personal gift."

Sam considered this for a moment.

"No, he couldn't be sure they'd never take it off. He must be doing something to _them_."

"All this is academic," Evie said, now lighting the small gas stove she'd brought. "All that matters is how _we're_ going to get the attention of the death ship, as Sam calls it, and bring it up a small river."

Dean pulled the map out of the car and sat by the stove to read it.

"Can't we have a fire?" He asked.

"No," Evie told him sternly. "Not with all those guards around."

"No fire, camping…"Dean grumbled. "I hope you got something to improve the situation."

"You don't like camping?" Evie asked in surprise. "Who the hell doesn't like camping?"

"Well, when you're a kid, and those noises you can hear outside your tent really could kill you," Sam said. "It kinda takes the fun out of it."

"Give me four walls any day," Dean added.

"Four walls can trap you," Evie answered. "I'll take my chances with canvas. Does that mean you're both sleeping in the car?"

Dean scratched his chin. "No," he finally conceded. "I don't need a stiff neck tomorrow. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you defenseless."

"Oh yeah," Evie laughed. "Poor defenseless me. Are you going to do anything with that map?"

He spread the map on the ground and traced the river's course with a finger. Sam drew near, sensing in Dean the beginnings of a plan.

"The river's not that narrow," he told them. "That skiff could get up here easily."

Evie looked at the map, then at him.

"You mean to actually lead the ship up here?"

"It's better than leaving the lure at the mouth of the river and hoping."

Evie thought about this as she stirred the stew.

"Yes, it is. But I'd better do it."

Dean frowned. "Why?"

"Because so far it's only taken men. If the ship caught up with you, you'd be in terrible danger." Dean took a spoonful of the stew from the pan. "Hey! Wait 'til it's ready!"

"You've got a point," he said, ignoring her protests.

"She can't do it," Sam told them.

"Why not?" Evie asked. "I'm at least as good as Dean at that sort of thing.

"Don't get cocky." Dean warned her.

"She can't do it because we need her here. We're going to have to steal something from Treve, if he realises what's going on then they're going to try to block the lake, only Evie can handle that."

Evie spooned her stew out into three plastic bowls.

"You're right," she said. "I think I know what we need."


	8. Chapter 8

They slept that night all crammed into Evie's little two man tent, with Evie in the middle.

Sam woke up. Evie was gone. The dark was just giving way to the late dawn of winter and outside the tent he could hear her moving quietly about the camp. He lay there a little longer, there was something very domestic about it, it reminded him a little of better days. Dean was still dead to the world, he had the sleeping habits of a combat soldier, he could wake up in moments, stay awake for as long as he needed to, but when he was able to sleep, he slept deeply.

Evie's spare phone rang, her own having been ruined in the sea, as had Sam's. He heard her sigh, then answer it.

"Lamorna," she said. "The jobs not finished, if that's what you mean...Why?...Can you repeat that?...Sorry Lamorna, but it sounds like you're saying the woman's house, that's H.O.U.S.E. is trying to eat, E.A.T. her...wow!...Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be there within the week...No, I can't get there any sooner...Well, I have to finish this job...no, I can't leave them to it, they need me...our plan relies on my particular talents, why are we arguing about this? It's not like the house has grown legs and started hunting people down...it's very simple, if the house is trying to eat her, tell her not to go in the house, and I'll be with her just as soon as I can...YOU WHAT?"

As soon as she had raised her voice, Evie shut herself up, then took herself away from the camp.

ooooooo

"Do you mean to tell me that you've had Morwenna spying on me? Instead of looking for Treve like I asked you to?" She demanded.

-I have to. Otherwise I don't get the whole story, do I? What do you think you were doing? You could have been killed! All to save the life of a virtual stranger.

"Sam Winchester's a friend…"

-A friend who doesn't trust you.

"He trusts me now. Why am I even discussing this with you? It's none of your business."

-Anything that risks your life _is_ my business Evie. You cannot afford to die. Your life is not your own to risk like that!

Evie pulled the phone away from her ear and tried to get her temper under control.

-I want you in New Orleans, and I want you there within the next couple of days, is that clear?

"Yes, it's clear. It's clear you've forgotten who you're talking to. Remember who's doing who the favour here Lamorna."

-We pay you…

"A pittance for clearing up your mess. I'll do it. I'll track Trevelyan down, and while I'm at it I'll clean up the smaller messes your witches make." A small gasp proved that Lamorna had understood the insult.

-I don't want you seeing those Winchester boys! Do you understand me?

"You don't get to tell me who I can socialise with. Now, you can tell your woman I'll be with her soon, and in future, if you need to contact me, you can do it through my mother!"

She closed the phone, and nearly threw it in the water. The truth had finally been pulled out of Lamorna, she didn't want Evie seeing the Winchesters. _Why the hell not?_ She wondered.

"Everything alright?" Sam asked, coming through the bushes.

Evie pushed her hands through her thick black hair.

"Yeah, I think so. I tell you Sam, I love my country, but sometimes I am so glad I'm here. The trouble with any organisation is that eventually they want to play games, and I'm fed up with being the favourite toy. I just want to be left alone to get on with my job. They made me this way, why can't they just accept that?"

"You really love hunting?" Sam asked.

"What's not to love? What other career stretches you like this one? And you get to live in the real world, without the blinkers that most people wear. Come on, Sam, could you really go back to that world?"

"I did it once."

"You did? It didn't drive you crazy? Living among people who believe in the myth of modern life."

"No, it didn't. It felt good to be normal, to not have to watch my back all the time. What about loneliness, Evie? With the life you live, not even a friend to travel with you, don't you get lonely?"

Evie took a deep breath as she thought about that.

"Let me tell you something, Sam. Loneliness is part of the human condition, it's got nothing to do with the job - the whole world is lonely. Come on, I need a cup of tea before we start this."

Dean was up and making coffee.

"Hey, making a move on my girl?"

"Oh don't you start." She muttered. She looked at the pot. "Why coffee? Why do you Yanks always have to start the day so aggressively?"

Dean looked at Sam with a puzzled expression.

"I think she just had a difficult phone call," Sam explained.

Evie looked up at him, her eyes flashing electric blue, and for a moment Sam was actually worried. Then she softened.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." Suddenly she cocked her head at the muffled sound of an engine. "Peter's here already."

oooooooooo

"Hey, Pete," Dean hailed, as the three emerged from the bushes some fifty metres seaward from the lake. "How's it goin'?"

The middle aged man looked up from unhooking a moped.

"Morning Dean, can you give me a hand?"

The three men carefully lifted the moped off the boat. When he was done, Peter brushed off his hands and looked at Evie.

"Good morning Miss Kernow."

"Good morning Peter. You can't have gone to sleep, to be here so early."

"It's all one to me, anything I can do to help you, and to bring justice down on that man, I'm more than happy to do."

Evie glanced at his aura.

"I didn't realise, you lost someone."

"My brother was one of the ten."

Evie touched his arm. "Oh Peter, I'm so sorry to hear that."

The man touched her hand awkwardly.

"Thank you, from you that means a lot." He roused himself. "Well, I'll be off. Blessed be.

They watched him go.

"Okay," Dean said. "So now we wait. Don't you need to get changed?"

Evie looked down at herself.

"Why, what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"You're wearing a dress."

"Yes," Evie answered patiently. "I'm not going to walk around in the middle of winter stark naked until Treve decides to take a dip now, am I? I'm hoping he might take me for a water creature, and a Speedo cossie might ruin the effect. I've got my knife and a bag for the bits. What more do I need?"

"Do you _enjoy_ hyperthermia?" Sam asked as they approached the camp.

"I don't get cold in the water."

"Oh, right, I forgot, you're a mermaid."

"I wish I hadn't told you now," she muttered. "Just make sure I can get warm quickly when I get back."

ooooooooooo

Evie had taken her mug of tea and was now sitting by a bush next to the lake, her eyes fixed on the house across from her only now emerging from the pre-dawn gloom.

"Maybe one of us should stay," Sam suggested. "She might be good, but those are guards with automatics over there."

"Nah, she wouldn't thank you even for suggesting it," Dean replied sitting across the stove from him. "Even if they did find her, all she'd have to do is jump in the water."

"But what if she can't?" Sam asked. "What if they catch her away from the water? She's not that big, she wouldn't stand a chance."

Dean smiled. "Well look at you getting all protective of the poor little hunter. Seriously, Sam, I think there are a lot of things that don't exist any more because they underestimated Evie Kernow. Having you there might actually slow her down."

"Are…"

"I don't mean because of you, I mean because she's not used to working with other people. Don't worry, she'll be fine."

Sam thought about this, staring at the lonely figure over by the lake. Finally he nodded.

"Okay, so let's not let our side down. Are we ready?"

"The skiff's all turned around and primed to take off the moment we're on board with 'essence of Treve'." Dean assured him.

"Guys," Evie called as quietly as she could. "We're up."

She slipped off her wrap around dress and waded into the water wearing nothing but a knife at her ankle and a small bag slung across her body. The brothers saw her disappear for a moment, then she reappeared, bobbing like a seal while she put on her flippers, then with a final splash she was gone.

Sam refilled the kettle and set it to boil again. Dean collected her dress from the damp ground and brought back to camp.

"She was right, he does swim early."

"Well, I guess she'd know, he is kin," Sam replied. Then he smiled. "I bet that rankles."

"What does?" Dean asked.

"Her having a family member gone bad."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "She doesn't strike me as someone who'd put up with that."

There was no sign of her. They scanned the lake for the signs of someone coming up for air, but if she did, she was very careful. Finally Dean stood up.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Evie said not to wander off."

"Yeah, well, the only person I take orders from is dad."

"She said it for a good reason!" Sam hissed furiously at Dean's receding back.

"I'm not going far!"

Then Sam was left alone, holding vigil.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

About fifteen minutes later Sam watched a man hurry down from the house to the jetty. He seemed to test the water, and a few minutes later Treve's head broke the surface. He swam over, a few words were exchanged, then he got out. A guard put his robe around his naked body and they all left for the house. Sam was pretty sure Evie hadn't done her job yet and he scanned the surface of the water anxiously.

Not long later, Treve reappeared. He looked around the edge of the lake. It was hard to tell from so far away, but he was pretty sure that the man was unsettled. The robe dropped to the wooden planks again, and Treve dived back into the lake.

Sam looked around for Dean, so much for him not going far. It wasn't like him to drop the ball in the middle of a job like this, so he assumed he was just along from there. Probably waiting until they got worried, then reemerging like he'd been in control all the time.

Treve had disappeared under the water for a good twenty minutes when suddenly he reappeared by the jetty. He called, and the guard hurried to his side. Treve took one last look at the lake before leaving the water for good, he seemed to be limping.

Five minutes later, Evie appeared.

"Where's Dean?" She demanded as she handed over the bag. Through the clear plastic Sam could see a lock of graying hair, a cloth stained with blood, and an alarmingly large piece of skin.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Oh, my knife slipped. It's not easy being surgeon-accurate underwater you know. Where's Dean?"

Sam opened his mouth, but before he could speak Dean came out of the undergrowth.

"I'm here, why? D'you miss me?"

Evie took one look at him then bent down to unstrap her knife. Suddenly she leapt on Dean, throwing him to the ground, she held her knife at his throat.

"Hey!" was all Dean managed to get out.

Sam grabbed her by her arms and pulled her off.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Evie, it's me, it's Dean," he said, clearly non-plussed.

She shook her head. "No, you're not Dean. You don't look like him."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked. "Of course he looks like Dean."

"Yeah, because I am Dean." He said, holding out one hand in defense.

Evie looked at him doubtfully. To his alarm, she actually looked disgusted by what she saw, as she stood there still dripping from the lake with nothing on but a knife sheath.

"What…" she began, still holding the knife at him, and doing her best to keep Sam away from him. She looked around him, then at his chest. She plucked at his shirt. "What's _this_?" She demanded. "You're…I don't understand." She pulled again at his shirt. "_This_ isn't you." She waved her hand around the rest of him. "This is you, but not here. This I don't recognise. You wandered off, didn't you?"

"I didn't go far," he said, defensively.

Finally she put her knife down.

"You went far enough, you dipstick. They caught you." She turned her back on him and went to get dressed.

"I think I'd remember if I was caught," Dean called after her. He looked at Sam. "She's lost it."

"Maybe," Sam answered carefully.

"I haven't lost it!" She answered furiously, coming back, doing up her dress as she did. "I know what I can see, even if you two are blind to it."

Without pausing, she ripped open Dean's shirt. There on, or rather in his chest was carved a diamond, and embedded in the centre was a quartz crystal.

"What the f…?" Dean said, staring in horror at himself.

"Like I said," Evie spat. "They caught you."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Oh shit." Dean reached out to Sam for support as his legs gave way.


	9. Chapter 9

_He pushed his way through the wood. Evie had said the night before that it must be a new wood, and now he looked about him he could see that she was right. He understood better than Sam realised why his brother had felt so unsure about her. It was uncanny how easily she'd slipped in with them, how comfortable it all was. He guessed that was how she managed to get pure strangers to do crazy things like lend her thousands of pounds worth of boat. Even his walking off now was not so much because he didn't want to take orders, rather that he needed to rebel, to not fall into this pattern so easily._

_Then there was Evie the woman. The very fact that he hadn't jumped her, even though she'd made it very clear that she wouldn't have pushed him off, seemed significant. Of course, he realised, he liked her._

_On an impulse he pulled out his phone and dialed. It rang for a moment, then he was switched over to voicemail. He almost didn't leave a message, but at the last moment changed his mind._

"_Hey, Cassie, it's me. Just wanted to see how you were doing. I'm sorry if it's too early. Give me a ring."_

_He didn't know what else to say. With a sigh, he closed the phone. He'd better get back anyway._

_He turned, and found the muzzle of a revolver in his face._

"_Oh, hey," he said, with his best ingenuous smile. "I didn't know this was private property. I'll get going."_

_He tried to step around the stony faced man, but he was having none of it._

"_Nice story," he said. "Why don't you tell it to my boss?"_

_Feeling stupid, Dean walked in front of his guard over to the house. He considered running, but even with all the trees to block the path of the bullet, the guy had a lot of height and weight on him, he seriously doubted he'd manage to get away. Besides, if he ran they'd search for him, and then they'd find Sam and Evie. Better to brazen it out._

_Treve was waiting for him in a toweling robe and slippers when Dean was ushered into the conservatory of the house. He'd been brought in the front way, so there was no way Sam could know what had happened._

_The man was short and over-weight, but he held a kind of authority - a menace - that over came those short comings. Here was a man, Dean was reasonably sure, who only got others to do his dirty work because he simply couldn't do it all himself._

"_Who are you?" He demanded, his voice rough from cigars. Probably Cuban, Dean thought._

"_Daniel," he answered, plucking a name from the ether. "Daniel Kernow." Well, it was as good a name as any._

"_KERNOW?" He demanded._

_-_ Damn,_ Dean thought. _May be it wasn't such a great name.

"_Yeah, Kernel," he amended rapidly. "As in 'Apricot'? Pretty stupid name I know…" he grinned at his captors, they didn't look amused._

"_You said Kernow," Treve told him. "As in 'Cornwall'. So, my men happen to find a man wandering around my lake with a Cornish name at exactly the same time I get a report that the barrier I paid a lot of money to have constructed has been removed from the mouth of the river." He looked at Dean with watery blue, bloodshot eyes. "I don't believe in coincidences brother. That's why I'm alive. " He considered Dean for a moment, then made a decision. "I don't have time to screw about. Take him out and shoot him."_

"_Now wait a minute!" Dean protested. "I was just going for a walk, I…"_

_Another man stepped in to the room. He didn't make a sound, but everyone knew instantly that he was there. Treve was a menace, but he was an ordinary menace. This man was something else._

"_I have a better idea." He said quietly, fixing Dean with almost black eyes._

"_I think I'd prefer the bullet," Dean said._

_  
_ooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Dean was still sitting on the damp ground as he finished telling the other two what he suddenly remembered.

"Couldn't have been much of a forgetting spell if it was that easily broken," Evie said.

"Can you get it out of him?" Sam asked.

Evie looked at Dean.

"That must be what they did to the other victims," she told him. "Come on Dean, don't make me be a bitch."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked. "Some witch has embedded something in my brother's chest!"

Evie ignored him. "Dean?"

Dean got to his feet. "Yeah, I know."

"You know?" Sam fussed. "You know what?"

Dean pointed at himself. "This is better than anything Evie could have collected."

"We've got our lure," Evie concluded. "You'd better get moving."

"Now hold on!" Sam put a hand on Dean's chest to stop him.

"Ow!" Dean protested. "Dude, watch what you're doing!"

"The idea was to lure the ship up here then throw the stuff overboard. What's to stop the ship taking Dean now as well as Treve?"

"Sam, there was always a risk anyway," Dean reminded him.

Evie went over to her pack and fished around in it. She returned with a small glass bottle.

"Take this, it's water from a holy spring back home. When the time comes, pour it over Dean's chest, pull the crystal out too if you can and throw it in the water." She pressed the bottle into Sam's hand. "Now go, hurry. And take good care of your brother!"

_So,_ Evie thought, _the witchdoctor's here after all. On standby. Treve really must be nervous._

It still didn't sit right with her that the forgetting spell had been so easily broken. A man able to do what he could do should have woven a better spell around a believer.

Evie packed up the camp with practiced speed. When she was done there was no sign they had ever been there. Dean had taken his keys, so she used other methods to start up the Impala and move it further out of sight. If anyone really looked they'd find it, she knew, regarding her work critically, _so let's hope they don't_. Her bike no one would find, of course.

Finally she took position up in a tree where she could see the lake and especially the river.

ooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

"I don't like this, Dean," Sam said.

"Oh quit whining," he answered. "You sound about eleven, maybe ten."

"I'm serious, Dean," Sam pressed. "What we're doing, it's dangerous."

"Well of course it's dangerous."

"I mean more dangerous than what we normally do."

"Oh, really? Like saying 'Bloody Mary' three times into the mirror you know she's haunting kind of dangerous?"

Dean glanced at him to make sure he'd got the point.

"Watch the river," Sam told him irritably. "There's a bend coming up."

oooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Evie had been waiting a good forty minutes when a handful of men appeared from the dirt track. Two of them were in diving gear, one carried a small wooden box.

They didn't seem in the slightest bit interested in looking for intruders, instead they concentrated on another task, one they seemed very well practiced in. The two frogmen waded clumsily into the water while unseen, Evie watched with contempt at their awkwardness. The other three men merely waited. After a few minutes there was a pulse. The divers reappeared some way into the lake and laughing.

Evie watched impatiently as the fools played with the barrier like it was a toy, jumping in just on the lake side, and allowing it to push them away.

A discordant bark from a radio at last pulled them to their senses. Evie gave them ten minutes after leaving her sight, then she slipped down from her perch, wearing a swimming costume for once.

The river bed wasn't deep, but it was murky. She already regretted not bringing goggles from when she'd gone after Treve. It'd had taken her too long to locate him. If she'd been quicker then may be Dean wouldn't have been grabbed. Intellectually she realised it was the best thing that could have happened. She didn't like it one bit though.

Finally she found it, in its plastic bag and weighed down by a lump of lead right in the centre of the flow.

Wading out of the water she looked at it quizzically. The bag had already been filling with water, which was unfortunate, because she'd planned to lob it on to the skiff when it came back. What bothered her though was that there was a tiny slit in one corner that let the water in. A deliberate slit.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

Arturo left the house for what he knew would be the last time. He wasn't best pleased about it, but there were some orders one couldn't disobey. Not far along the road he saw a figure and pulled over. Meg got in the passenger side. She shut the door and looked ahead, not acknowledging the Witchdoctor's presence.

"I hope there's a good reason why I have to lose one of my best clients," he said bitterly.

She glanced at him, unconcerned by his rancour.

"The Winchesters are not to be harmed, not yet anyway. We have plans for them."

"And the girl?"

Meg considered her words.

"Let's just say that right now our needs coincide with hers."

oooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooo

Dean brought the boat to a stop at the mouth of the river. He looked out over the grey sky and ocean.

"You know, we could still be here for ages," he said. Suddenly the black ship seemed to coagulate out of the shadows of the waves. "Or not."

He brought the engine back to life, and swung the boat around. Heading back up the way they'd just come.

"Is it following?" He shouted.

"Oh yeah," Sam replied breathlessly.

Dean's mouth was dry. A dread was stealing over him, something he thought he'd stopped feeling years ago. Glancing at Sam, he saw his brother's face had lost all it's colour. In all their plans they'd forgotten one thing everyone had mentioned, the fear that had stolen over them, that had kept anyone from moving while it got on with its work. He gripped the wheel, gritted his teeth, and tried to ignore it.

"Faster Dean!"

"I don't want to lose it!"

"Trust me, you're not going to."

He did trust him. Dean went faster.

It was a long way back to the lake, Sam gripped the bottle of holy water so tightly he was afraid he was going to break it. The ship seemed to be playing with them, it could go as fast as it wanted, yet it was prepared to keep the boat just in its sight. The skiff forced its way up river, the wake soaking the banks, and an early morning angler. The Black Ship glided after them, far bigger than the water course should allow, trees would disappear with almost a shudder, and reappear behind it.

Evie felt its coming long before she saw any sign of it. Her guts twisted in unformed fear as she stood nervously at the edge of the lake. The skiff burst out onto the still water in a cacophony of sound, and kept going, on towards the house.

Then the ship glided in. For a moment, Evie merely stared at it's massive silent form, at the black, flashing clouds above it in the otherwise still air.

The came the whisper.

_The hour has come, but not the man._

"Now, Sam," she said anxiously. "Do it now!"

Sam pried Dean's white-knuckled hands from the wheel, and turned him round. He still wore the shirt Evie had ripped and it slipped open as Sam controlled his fall to the floor. Glancing up he saw in horror that the cloud had shifted, was coming towards them. Feverishly he unscrewed the bottle and poured the water over his brother. Then he shut his eyes and prayed it would worked. His head swam, he felt his hair stand up from static electricity, when he opened his eyes he found the cloud had descended upon them.

Then Dean screamed.

Sam reached out for the crystal still embedded in Dean's skin.

ooooooooooo

Evie watched, her hands on her head, feeling helpless. The ship had been fooled so many times, it looked like it wasn't taking any chances. And meanwhile she knew Treve would be bundling his fat little self into his Jaguar and speeding off.

In desperation she lifted up her voice and yelled –

"Over there!" She pointed at the house. "The one you seek is over there!"

And then again –

"Tho ve Eve Curnow! An dean Treve, theu en hunz! Ottava ena!"

ooooooooooooo

Sam threw the crystal into the lake. As he did so he heard Evie shouting something from the bank. The cloud seemed to stutter, then no longer interested in their little boat, it glided away, towards the house.

Sam didn't care any more. All he cared about was that Dean had instantly stopped screaming.

"You okay?" He asked anxiously.

Dean forced himself to sit up. He took a ragged breath.

"If I ever decide to be bait again, remind me of this moment," he said, his voice hoarse.

Sam laughed, relieved. And punched him in the shoulder. The punch he received back had him on his ass.

ooooooooooooooo

Only Evie saw the cloud pass the house and head up along the road that led to it. She heard a screech of tires and watched the micro-storm rage. At last, the cloud returned, still black and menacing, but no longer flashing lightning. The ship turned around and as it passed onto the river, it faded away.

oooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

"So where you to now?" Evie asked as she secured the Harley in it's carrier.

They had given themselves a days holiday since the events two days ago, but now she was anxious to be moving again.

"We haven't decided yet," Dean answered, finishing off the last of her pancakes. "I'm gonna miss your cooking."

She leant against the side of the campervan and watched.

"Honestly, you'd think you never ate, the way you shovel it away." She smiled. "I'm glad I met you."

Dean put the plate down.

"You know, we could come with you to New Orleans," he offered. Sam looked up from the laptop in surprise. "A hungry house, sounds like fun."

"Yeah. But I don't do well with a lot of company. I've grown too used to solitude."

Dean nodded, understanding.

"There's a thing over in Illinois could be interesting," Sam said. "Mutilations."

"More cattle?" Dean asked, sounding bored.

"People."

His eyebrows raised. "Yeah, okay, I could go for that."

Evie washed the plate up in the last of the hot water and stowed it away.

"Well, I'm set. Guys, it's been great."

"You've got our numbers?" Sam asked.

"Both of them, and vice versa?" She checked. "Email etcetera? We will definitely meet again."

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOooooooooooooooo

Evie followed Dean and Sam along the road until the T junction, where she was turning left and they were going right. She rolled down her window and leant out, Dean opened his to hear her.

"There's one thing I forgot to do," she said. Reaching over, she pulled Dean from his seat and kissed him. "Would have been a crime if I'd let you go unkissed," she said with a twinkle in her eyes of forget-me-not blue.

The vehicles pulled away. Evie watched the Impala disappear along the road in her wing mirror. She held a moment of regret, then touched her stereo, looked along the open road and smiled at the future.

Both men watched the camper-van in the mirror until it had shrunk out of sight.

"So, people mutilation?" Dean asked. "Tell me more."


End file.
